Know Your Joe: Short Fuse
by Red Witch
Summary: Co-Written by ColdFusion 180! Short Fuse decides to make himself the subject of his own show. Too bad his timing needs work.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any GI Joe characters has joined a convoy. Not even this idea is mine! It was co written by ColdFusion 180! Thanks Buddy! This takes place around the same time as the chapter Cobra Persona: Torch in my other story Year of the Cobra. **

**Know Your Joe: Short Fuse**

"I spy something with my little eye…" Bazooka remarked as he rode in a VAMP. "Something beginning with R!"

"Road…" Alpine groaned. He was driving the VAMP.

"That's right!" Bazooka said. "How did you know that?"

"Because that was the **same answer** you had since we started playing this game!" Dial Tone yelled over the intercom.

"Five times in a row…" Alpine groaned. "I hate playing this game with you!"

"Is it my fault there haven't been any cows in the fields on this trip?" Bazooka snapped back.

"Well there goes yet another few dull hours of my life I'll never get back," Low Light sighed glancing at his watch as he rode in a large truck. "I've been on week-long stakeouts that were more exciting than this."

"I spy…" Bazooka was heard saying. "Something beginning with…R."

"If it's road again so help me…" Alpine threatened.

Low Light added. "I'm not saying this trip hasn't had it's moments."

"C'mon man. Don't be so moody," Roadblock said sitting next to him. "There are worse things that being assigned as a guard on convoy duty."

"Yeah, like taking part in the complete, full-scale inventory being done back at the Pit," Duke commented on the radio in his command vehicle. The group of supporting Joes were spread among a variety of trucks, VAMPs and RAMs making up the convoy with Duke spearheading the convoy.

"I'm just glad we weren't punished into inventory duty," Dial Tone remarked as he rode with Sci Fi in the front seat of one armored truck. "Talk about boring!"

Sci Fi agreed. "Nothing but endless spreadsheets and numbers detailing every nut, bolt, bullet, ration, paper clip and staple owned by the G.I. Joe team. Last time the Pentagon bean-counters had to invent some new numbers just for us."

"You mean we had that much equipment in use or in storage?" Dial Tone asked.

"No, it was for the amount of antacids they ordered after seeing our incurred costs for replacing damaged equipment and repairs," Lifeline explained. He was sitting up front with Duke. "I've never seen so many people suffer simultaneous heart attacks before."

"And that was just the accountants from the Pentagon," Duke sighed. "Why the hell did Airtight have to demonstrate his new and improved form of laughing gas?"

"Which also turned out to have been made from poison ivy," Lifeline sighed.

"That's when the brass decided to never send in an accountant again," Duke sighed. "Well at least until they find one that's also a cyborg or something."

Low Light remarked. "Basically, half the base is doing inventory while the other half is on this convoy."

"_Oh, we got a great big convoy!"_ Shipwreck was heard singing as he drove a jeep with Beach Head. _"Rocking into the night…" _

"Shut up CW McClueless!" Beach Head snapped. "It wasn't funny the first three hours and it's less funny now!"

"Okay, that explains why Shipwreck is here," Alpine realized. "He can't count past ten with his shoes on."

"Neither can I," Bazooka spoke up. "That's why I draw toes on the tips of all my boots."

"I wondered about that," Alpine realized. "Now I know."

"And knowing is the reason half of new people who come to the Pit put in for a transfer," Duke sighed.

"At least I didn't get completely cleaned out during last week's poker game," Shipwreck replied. "Alpine, you still owe me twenty bucks from the tournament we had two months ago!"

"What are you talking about? I only borrowed five from you," Alpine protested.

"Compound interest, pal," Shipwreck beamed. "Who has trouble counting **now?"**

"Ha, ha…" Sci Fi snickered.

"What are **you** laughing at Sci?" Shipwreck called out. "You owe me **thirty dollars** from that fifteen I lent you two and a half weeks ago!"

"I was hoping you'd forgotten about that," Sci Fi groaned.

"Nope," Shipwreck grinned. "When it comes to money my mind is a steel trap."

"Too bad it's been rusted with alcohol years ago!" Flint snapped.

"Speaking of years," Shipwreck thought aloud. "When are **you** going to pay off the hundred bucks you owe me?"

"Uhhh…." Flint gulped. "Will you take a check?"

"That's one way to encourage a person's mathematical ability," Low Light quipped. "Inserting dollar signs in front of numbers will help turn **anyone** into a calculator."

"Quit yapping you yahoos!" Beach Head snapped. "This frequency is to be kept clear and used only for relevant communications. We're supposed to stay alert and prepared to respond to threats at all times!"

"Relax, Beach Head. This isn't a war zone," Lady Jaye said sitting next to Flint. "We're driving on a public highway less than half an hour away from the Pit. No one is going to ambush such a heavily armed convoy traveling on American soil."

"Why are we so heavily armed?" Sci-Fi asked. "We've got enough firepower here to take over a good-sized Third-World country. Or even the local Walmart."

"Speaking of which," Bazooka said. "We just passed it. Can we stop and get some gum?"

"NO!" Duke snapped.

"Well how about we go through the drive thru at McDonalds?" Bazooka asked.

"I could go for Taco Bell," Alpine remarked.

"I like KFC," Sci-Fi admitted.

"Well it's literally right next door to the Taco Bell…" Alpine said. "It would be easy to…"

"No fast food!" Duke shouted.

"Why not?" Bazooka whined.

"Because this convoy is transporting a full load of the three essentials G.I. Joe absolutely cannot do without," Duke stated. "Ammunition, aspirin and alcohol."

"I should have known," Low Light rolled his eyes behind his visor.

"You have to admit they are vital supplies," Shipwreck quipped. "Especially the last one!"

"Yet **another** reason why Shipwreck is here," Flint said. "He practically begged to be assigned to convoy duty."

"You're the ones who are always saying I should volunteer more for duty," Shipwreck pointed out. "Which is it? Pick one!"

"You have to admit," Roadblock spoke up. "When it comes to alcohol, Shipwreck won't quit!"

"I wish you would all quit yapping and take this seriously!" Beach Head snapped.

"I always take my booze runs seriously," Shipwreck remarked.

"We need to stay alert!" Beach Head snapped. "We could be attacked at any moment!"

"Who the hell would be so stupid to attack a heavily armed military convoy in the middle of the day?" Low Light asked.

"Cobra! That's who!" Beach Head snapped.

"Even Cobra isn't stupid enough to attack us for just a bunch of pills and alcohol," Duke groaned.

"I don't know," Shipwreck said. "From what I've heard Cobra Commander has become quite the alcoholic."

"You are the expert in that field," Low Light quipped.

"You really think Cobra Commander is an alcoholic?" Dial Tone asked.

"Would not surprise me," Shipwreck remarked. "I mean this is the same guy who tried to take over Chicago with giant vegetables. If that's not a plan born from a drunken stupor, I don't know what is!"

"He has had some pretty whacked out ideas over the years," Lady Jaye conceded. "Remember the time he tried to put his face on the moon? What was **that** about?"

"That would give werewolves nightmares," Sci Fi shuddered.

"Look we all know Cobra Commander is several snakes short of a basket," Duke said. "He's crazy sure. But a drunk? I'm not convinced."

"A highly functional alcoholic is still an alcoholic," Lifeline pointed. "Look at Shipwreck."

"Shipwreck is barely functional when he's **sober,**" Low Light quipped. "But I have to admit that he might be right on this one. I've heard rumors that whenever the guy loses a battle, he has a drink."

"Well that settles it," Roadblock said. "He's got to be a drunk by now. How he's stayed sober at all I don't know how."

"Numbers don't lie Duke," Shipwreck nodded. "Do the math! It proves my point."

"What point?" Duke protested. "Just because a guy takes one drink after he loses a battle…Almost every battle for…How many years? Wait, carry the five and…Whoa."

"Exactly," Shipwreck said.

"That's a lot of drinks," Duke admitted.

"And that's assuming he only stops at one drink," Shipwreck went on. "I'm pretty sure the guy has tacked on at least a couple extra during the years. Assuming he's only increased his drinking by two extra glasses…Now compound that with…"

"Will you lot **shut up!?"** Beach Head yelled. "You should all be on the lookout for the enemy! We could find ourselves under attack at any…"

That was when Beach Head happened to look up and saw a shimmering space ship hovering above them. "What the heck is **that**?" He screamed.

At that very instance the spaceship disappeared. "What is what?" Roadblock quickly scanned the area.

"Up there! I saw **something** above us!" Beach Head stuck his head out the window. "It looked like some kind of spaceship!"

"A spaceship?" Alpine blinked in confusion.

"Oh no! The aliens have landed!" Bazooka yelped.

"There's nothing there," Shipwreck looked up.

"EYES ON THE ROAD SALT WATER FOR BRAINS!" Beach Head snapped.

"Well then how can I see the _spaceship_?" Shipwreck asked sarcastically. "And you people think I see things!"

"Well I did see something!" Beach Head snapped. "I saw a spaceship!"

"What **kind **of spaceship?" Bazooka called out. "Was it an ET friendly alien phone home spaceship or a Sith Lord gonna blow us all up into a billion pieces of the force spaceship?"

"I don't know!" Beach Head snapped. "It was a spaceship!"

"What are you talking about, Beach Head?" Flint studied the skies. "There's nothing up there."

"Radar didn't notice anything either," Lady Jaye checked her readouts. "You must have been seeing things."

"Are you sure it wasn't a cloud?" Lifeline asked.

"I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A SPACESHIP AND A CLOUD LIFELINE!" Beach Head snapped. "And I saw a spaceship! Before it turned invisible!"

"An _invisible spaceship_?" Shipwreck asked. "Even I come up with better stories than that!"

"You weren't sampling any of the convoy's alcohol supplies, were you?" Duke asked.

"I can't believe you'd do that!" Shipwreck shouted in outrage. "Especially without me!"

"I wasn't drinking anything!" Beach Head snapped.

Lifeline sighed. "Beach Head. Remember the time you took a little too much cough syrup? And you swore to God on a Bible your stuffed bear was talking to you."

"That was **different!"** Beach Head snapped. "Sgt. Snuffles was speaking to me as a medium so I could have a personal conversation with my lord and savior about my life!"

"You mean Elvis?" Lifeline asked in a bored voice.

"I told you!" Beach Head snapped. "That was a bad connection! I ended up talking to him by mistake!"

"No, the mistake was you taking too much **cough syrup**," Lifeline told him. "We found you singing Hound Dog gyrating your hips on top of Hawk's jeep."

"You refused to come down until we made you some fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches," Shipwreck said.

"We all have our guilty pleasures!" Beach Head snapped. "What's your point?"

"My point is…" Lifeline sighed. "Maybe there's a chance that you are a little dehydrated or there was a trick of the light…?"

"I saw **something** I tell you!" Beach Head insisted. "It was visible for less than a second!"

"Sure, whatever you say," Low Light drawled.

"But it's true!" Beach Head howled.

"**Now** who's barely sober?" Shipwreck snickered.

"Can we get back to the aliens?" Bazooka snapped. "Did they have tentacles? Big teeth? What?"

"I didn't see aliens!" Beach Head snapped. "I just saw a spaceship!"

"Which means you saw **aliens!**" Bazooka snapped.

"Not necessarily," Roadblock corrected him. "It could be Cobra again. Remember that fake spaceship scam they had before?"

"This was a **real spaceship**!" Beach Head snapped. "Not a fake!"

"Where the hell would Cobra get a **real spaceship**?" Low Light asked.

"Obviously they **stole it**," Shipwreck told him. "I mean it's Cobra. That's pretty much a given."

Duke was stunned. "Those idiots could barely hang on to that fake chicken restaurant! How would they get a _spaceship?_"

"How should I know?" Shipwreck said. "All I'm saying is if they **did** get a spaceship, they probably **stole it!"**

"He's right," Low Light remarked.

"That is a plausible scenario," Lifeline agreed.

"And to think," Lady Jaye sighed. "I traded with Scarlett for this assignment."

"At least the ride isn't boring anymore," Low Light admitted.

"Help! I don't wanna be attacked by aliens!" Bazooka wailed.

"There were no aliens!" Beach Head snapped. "Only a **spaceship!"**

"Which for all we know could have been piloted by Cobra," Shipwreck said.

"Or aliens!" Bazooka snapped.

"Okay possibly aliens _might_ have been in that spaceship!" Beach Head admitted. "I will admit that! The main thing is that I saw a spaceship!"

"Beach Head are you **sure** you didn't take anything recently?" Lady Jaye asked. "Some cough syrup perhaps?"

"I AM PERFECTLY SOBER!" Beach Head snapped. "Who do you think I am? Shipwreck?"

"Of course **not**," Low Light quipped. "Shipwreck doesn't see aliens when he's drunk!"

"That's right!" Shipwreck snapped. "I may see a mermaid or a unicorn or the occasional leprechaun but I don't see **aliens!** And when I **do **see those things, at least I'm smart enough to keep it to myself! Usually."

"That's because you can hold your drink better than Beach Head," Sci Fi remarked.

"I DIDN'T TAKE A DRINK!" Beach Head snapped. "And I did see a spaceship!"

"That **nobody else** saw," Low Light remarked. "Not even Shipwreck."

Shipwreck admitted. "That is kind of a bad sign, swabbie."

"Okay, everybody quiet down about this spaceship malarkey," Duke ordered. "The last thing we want is to listen to a pair of idiots babbling nonsense."

_"Da-da, da, da-dah!"_ A familiar pair of voices broke in over every radio in the convoy. "Welcome everyone to the latest craze ever to hit the airwaves!"

"What?" Duke gasped and nearly ran off the road. "It couldn't be…"

"It could," Roadblock groaned.

"It isn't…" Flint moaned.

"It is…" Lady Jaye groaned.

"Oh no, don't tell me," Low Light moaned.

"Okay I won't," Shipwreck rolled his eyes.

"Due to the fact our camera was destroyed during last week's missile polo game, some various restraining orders from Hawk and the latest recommendations on a healthy amount of screen time from electronic devices, we are unable to produce our irregular television program," Quick Kick's voice emanated from the vehicles' speakers.

"Thank God for small miracles," Lifeline moaned.

"So, we decided to try a new format that suits the evolving trends of the times," Short Fuse chimed in. "Presenting our newest live podcast: Know Your Joe Radio!"

"You were saying, Duke?" Flint drawled. "About idiots babbling nonsense?"

"I'm already missing the spaceship talk," Duke groaned.

"What are those idiots **doing?**" Beach Head swore fiddling with his radio. "How are they broadcasting a one-way transmission while still maintaining our convoy's two-way communications?"

"Our listeners are probably wondering how we're broadcasting our one-way transmission while still maintaining their own existing two-way communication systems," Quick Kick said. "Don't ask us. We're don't know anything about electromagnetics or electronics."

"Not to mention anything else," Low Light quipped.

"But we're sure glad it works!" Short Fuse chirped. "Now Joes can tune in and listen to our show while carrying out mundane, boring tasks such as KP, vehicle repair or convoy duty!"

"How about standing in front of a firing squad?" Low Light grumbled.

"Now I wish somebody **would** try to ambush us," Lady Jaye groaned.

"Where are the aliens when you need them?" Alpine groaned.

"Oh, **now** you believe me?" Beach Head snapped. "How convenient!_"_

"It's Know Your Joe, all day all night!" Quick Kick went on. "All the time!"

"Maybe we'll get lucky and Cobra will launch an attack to try and steal all our alcohol?" Duke moaned.

"Hey, let's not go **that far**!" Shipwreck sounded alarmed. "That's crazy talk!"

"What do you think we're listening to?" Sci-Fi remarked.

"We have a great guest here in celebration of our show's newest format," Quick Kick was heard along with a drum roll. "My very good co-host and broadcast buddy: Short Fuse!"

"Thank you! Thank you!" A round of clapping accompanied Short Fuse's voice. "Man, you're beautiful!"

"No, you're beautiful!" Quick Kick replied.

"No, you're beautiful!"

"No, you're beautiful!"

"No, you're beautiful!"

"No, you're beautiful!"

"I think somebody else got into the cough syrup," Lifeline groaned.

"You're beautiful man," Quick Kick said.

"Get outta here," Short Fuse said. "**You're** beautiful!"

"Good glaciers, and I thought Barney the Dinosaur was annoying," Alpine groaned as the two Joes continued to praise each other.

"Those two could give annoying lessons to the Annoying Orange," Roadblock groaned.

"Everybody just turn your radios off and get back to work," Beach Head moved to do so.

"But if we turn our radios off, how will we maintain communications in case of an attack?" Bazooka asked.

"Uh…" Beach Head paused for a moment. "We'll use our phones."

"**What phones?** They're all back at the Pit," Lifeline reminded. "You convinced Hawk to prohibit the carrying of personal phones on duty after reporting more people were playing games and watching Me Tube videos on them than doing their jobs."

"That's right," Sci Fi realized. "You did!"

"Well then we'll…um…um…" Beach Head blanked, stumped. "Crud!"

"My thoughts exactly," Low Light moaned.

"Way to go Beach Brain!" Shipwreck groaned. "You just don't know how to think do you?"

"Again, that's **Shipwreck** saying it!" Low Light snapped. "Are you **sure **you didn't take any cough syrup?"

"I am perfectly **sober!"** Beach Head screamed.

"I wish I **wasn't,**" Duke moaned.

"Okay, let's get to it!" Quick Kick finally declared. "Short Fuse's real name is Eric W. Freistadt and he's originally from Chicago, Illinois."

"That's right," Short Fuse confirmed. "The Windy City. That Toddlin' Town!"

"The birthplace of this clown," Roadblock groaned as Short Fuse continued to rattle off nicknames.

"Just hearing his voice makes me frown," Shipwreck remarked.

"No stupid rhyming games!" Beach Head snapped.

"Gee Beach Head," Duke mocked. "What's got you down?"

"Uggghhh…" Beach Head moaned.

"And you come from a military family," Quick Kick prompted.

"Yep. My father and grandfather were Top Sergeants, my mother was a Sergeant Major, my grandmother was a WAC and my younger sister is a Brigadier General," Short Fuse said.

"That's pretty military," Alpine blinked.

"I grew up on various bases around the world," Short Fuse went on. "My sister and I would switch off staying with our mom and dad except on the rare occasions they were assigned to the same base."

"Wow, that must have been hard," Quick Kick commented.

"Not really. My folks were real career soldiers," Short Fuse said proudly. "And I was really glad I didn't have to put up with my sister all the time."

"Too bad we have to keep putting up with **you**," Low Light groaned.

"Didn't you get along with your sister?" Quick Kick asked.

"Heck no!" Short Fuse stated. "Now don't get me wrong. My sister and I love each other very much, but she was always pushing me around and beating me up all the time!"

"Some things never change," Shipwreck quipped. "Anybody got Fuse's sister's number?"

"So that she can beat him up again for us?" Lady Jaye asked. "I'll look it up!"

"To this day, she'll call me and nag me about doing my duty, keeping in contact with mom, eating well and staying in shape," Short Fuse complained. "And I have to do it since she outranks me both militarily and at home!"

"I'm starting to like her already," Lady Jaye smirked. "I so have to look up Short Fuse's sister when we get back."

"Make sure to ask her to have Short Fuse stop putting on another one of these stupid shows," Flint said. "If you play your cards right, we'll be able to see her show up and beat the stuffing out of him in person."

"If she does, we so have to record it," Dial Tone said.

"Gee, sounds like your sister was a bit of a bully," Quick Kick commented.

"Oh, not at all," Short Fuse corrected. "She was just really into wrestling, judo and kickboxing and would use me as a practice dummy."

"A role he no doubt excelled in," Low Light quipped.

"Talk about typecasting," Dial Tone added.

"I wonder if we could get her transferred to our base?" Lady Jaye remarked.

"Wow. Your sister sounds like my kind of woman," Quick Kick whistled. "Is she available?"

"Yeah, tell us," Shipwreck urged. "I bet a strong, independent gal like her would jump at the chance to go out with a real man like me!"

"You'd have to ask her last boyfriend," Short Fuse replied. "The final sections of his body cast are scheduled to come off next week and he still has a few months to go until he'll be able to attempt eating solid food again."

"Er, on second thought, I wouldn't want to bother her," Quick Kick gulped.

"Still so eager about meeting Short Fuse's sister, Shipwreck?" Lady Jaye smirked. "I'll send her your contact info when I talk to her."

"Uh, no thanks," Shipwreck blinked. "I know better than to go out with a woman who can beat me to a pulp."

"How's that different from any of your **other** dates?" Low Light quipped.

"Definitely have to ask if she wants a transfer," Lady Jaye grinned.

"So, let's get back to you," Quick Kick addressed Short Fuse. "Were you a fan of the various martial arts too?"

"Na, they weren't my thing. I was more into other sports," Short Fuse explained. "As a kid I participated in baseball, football, basketball, soccer, golf, horseshoes, lawn darts, bocce ball and cornhole."

"What's cornhole?" Bazooka asked, confused.

"It another name for bean bag toss," Alpine explained. "Appropriate since Short Fuse obviously has a mung-sized bean brain!"

"Wow, that's a lot of sports," Quick Kick commented. "You must have been one heck of an athlete."

"Oh, I wasn't an athlete," Short Fuse corrected. "I was the ball retriever, equipment manager, caddy and towel boy."

"There's a _big surprise_," Low Light snorted.

"That does explain his aptitude towards PT," Beach Head remarked.

"Yep, it was during the many hours of watching others practice where I found the beauty and essence of abstract mathematics," Short Fuse said passionately. "I discovered the paths of various sports' projectiles could be reduced to a simple set of geometric concepts and trigonometric equations relating to the Newtonian mechanics of arcs, angles and parabolas."

"Uh, if you say so," Quick Kick sounded a bit lost.

"Yes, my mathematical models helped my teammates improve their own athletic abilities so much they voted me MVP," Short Fuse beamed. "Until the day I actually tried to play."

"Oh boy. Three guesses how **that** ended up," Shipwreck quipped.

"I tell ya, my coaches said they had never seen someone so physically uncoordinated in their lives," Short Fuse reported. "You wouldn't think a little bean bag could do so much damage, but I've got the scars and hospital bills to prove it!"

"Sounds remarkably like the last game of gauze pad frisbee held in the infirmary," Duke snarled as he glared at Lifeline. "Was he giving you pointers Lifeline?"

"Uh, that was all Bree's idea," Lifeline gulped sinking in his seat. "I was an involuntary participant."

"That's what you said when she took you up to that ski lodge for a romantic weekend getaway," Shipwreck pointed out.

"I was **kidnapped**!" Lifeline protested.

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," Low Light smirked.

"You hurt yourself tossing a **bean bag**?" Quick Kick was shocked.

"No, I gave the other team's coach a concussion and had to pay his hospital bill," Short Fuse explained. "Along with the few other dozen bills after accidentally striking people with baseballs, horseshoes, golf balls, lawn darts…"

"So that's why that game finally got banned," Alpine noted. "Now we know."

"And knowing is…" Bazooka began.

"A good argument for universal health care," Duke sighed.

"You mean so it'll be easier for people to pay for treatment like broken bones, puncture wounds and damage to internal organs?" Sci-Fi asked.

"Yeah, those too," Duke groaned as Lifeline gave him an aspirin. "Thanks Lifeline. How did you know I needed this?"

"I've been with the Joes a long time Duke…" Lifeline took one for himself. "I know the signs."

"I tried to explain to the paramedics that it wasn't my fault," Short Fuse defended. "I didn't know my own strength."

"Can't know what doesn't exist," Low Light quipped.

"I mean, take this squishy stress ball for instance," Short Fuse continued. "If I try to toss it into this room's trash can…oops!"

CRASH!

"Oops?" Flint blinked as several loud bangs and crashes were heard. "What does he mean by '**oops**'?"

Shipwreck remarked. "I know what it means when I say oops!"

"We all know what it means when **you** say oops," Lady Jaye told her. "Property damage and paternity suits!"

"DNA testing cleared me of all of those lawsuits and you know it!" Shipwreck snapped.

CRASH! SMASH! CLUNK!

"Look what you did!" Quick Kick yelled. "You wrecked Beach Head's…uh, never mind."

"What?!" Beach Head shouted. "**What** did that maniac wreck?!"

"Maybe he won't notice," Short Fuse whispered. Clearly not realizing that they were still on the radio.

"WHAT WON'T I NOTICE?!" Beach Head yelled.

"He noticed an invisible spaceship," Shipwreck quipped.

"IT WAS NOT INVISIBLE!" Beach Head snapped. "Mostly."

"Are you sure? Those cracks look really deep," Quick Kick noted.

"Oh that. I thought your talking about the **other stuff,"** Short Fuse commented. "Those didn't shatter into too many pieces. Flint might not even get too mad if I use enough super glue and duct tape."

"WHAT?!" Flint shot up in his seat. "What are those idiots **talking about**?"

"I dunno, but it sounds pretty…" Lifeline blinked. "COW!"

"It sounds like a _pretty cow_?" Duke asked. Then he realized he should have been watching the road. "COW!"

Standing right in the middle of the road was a black and white cow. "Mooo?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Duke screamed as he slammed on the brakes.

"AAAAAAHHH!" Bazooka and Alpine were behind him.

What happened was a rather predictable crash followed by a rather insane and predictable pile up on the highway. Predictably the cow just stood there, unharmed and unperturbed.

"Mooo?"

"Oh, **shut up!"** Duke snapped at the cow. "You're about three seconds away from being a cheeseburger you know that?"

"Hey Bazooka…" Alpine moaned. "We found a cow. Happy?"

"Is everyone all right?" Lifeline called out.

"Who cares about us?" Shipwreck snapped. "Is the booze okay?"

"They double packed it but I'll check," Roadblock groaned. "After that crash my nerves are a wreck."

"That's not the only thing that's wrecked," Duke groaned as he looked at the mess behind him. "Hawk is so not going to be happy about this!"

"There goes the budget…" Flint moaned. "And I think my spleen."

"Yet **another** downside to the Disaster Duo being on the radio," Low Light quipped. "In addition to causing crashes. You can't see what they end up wrecking, destroying or breaking to pieces."

"Just like my sanity," Duke moaned. "Maybe the TV show wasn't so bad after all?"

"You obviously have a concussion," Lifeline looked at him.

"Should you tape those two pieces together?" Short Fuse was heard saying on the radio. "They don't look like they go together."

"It's close enough," Quick Kick was heard.

TINKLE! CRASH!

"Flint is so going to notice **that,"** Short Fuse groaned.

"NOTICE WHAT?" Flint shouted. "What did those idiots do?"

"How much you wanna bet that cow isn't the only one that's gonna end up as dead meat by the end of the day?" Shipwreck groaned.

"Even money," Beach Head nodded.

"Okay, never mind the mess," Quick Kick said quickly. "We'll hide…er, I mean **fix** it up later. Let's go back to the athletic travails of your past."

"BECAUSE HE WON'T HAVE A FUTURE WHEN I GET BACK TO BASE!" Flint shouted. "They'd better not be talking about my car!"

"Wouldn't that be a tragedy?" Lady Jaye rolled her eyes.

"Okay," Short Fuse agreed. "Where was I? Ah, yes. After using my entire life savings to pay overtime for the local ambulance workers, I decided to quit my brief sports career and join the Army as a mortarman. Using a projectile of known mass and known explosive force I can plot artillery azimuths and tribulations in my head."

"Don't you mean **triangulations**?" Quick Kick asked.

"How many times have you **seen** me work a mortar?" The sound of Short Fuse giving him a look carried over the radios.

"Not as often as this broadcast," Roadblock sighed as he came back. "Whose time to end has **long** since passed."

"How's the cargo?" Low Light asked.

"Safe and sound," Roadblock told him.

"Moooo…"

"But if I was that cow," Roadblock groaned. "I wouldn't stick around."

"Well, that's one of the things we'd like to correct," Quick Kick announced. "Let's move on to the demonstration portion of the show."

"More like demolition," Shipwreck quipped.

"So, viewers, we are now out near the firing range and have a mortar and ammunition case all set up," Quick Kick described. "Short Fuse will now demonstrate his incredible calculating mental abilities!"

"I doubt it," Low Light snorted. "That would require him having **regular** mental abilities."

"Mooo…"

"GET OUT OF THE ROAD YOU STUPID COW!" Duke snapped. "I know where there's barbecue sauce and I will use it!"

"Speaking of which," Low Light sighed. "It sounds like Duke broke his."

"That's right!" Short Fuse beamed. "I will now fire off half a dozen faux mortar shells filled with a harmless, inert substance and have them each hit a series of random targets at various distances and elevations!"

"The targets in this case will be a set of large, open barrels located all over the Pit," Quick Kick went on. "Like the far end of the fence line, the roof of the mess hall, the middle of Beach Head's obstacle course…"

"WHAT?!" Beach Head yelled. "NOT MY OBSTACLE COURSE!"

"Better order the convoy to pick up the pace, Duke," Sci-Fi warned. "Otherwise we won't have a Pit left!"

"I would if I could get the damn cow off the road!" Duke snapped.

"Kind of a moot point…" Alpine sighed.

"Don't you mean a **moo point**?" Shipwreck quipped.

"Since all our vehicles are smashed together," Alpine sighed. "We're not going anywhere for a while."

"Why do I have a feeling that might not necessarily be a bad thing?" Lady Jaye realized.

"Okay, first I'll take a moment to calculate the necessary angles and bearings," Short Fuse muttered a few numbers under his breath. "And now I'll drop the shells down the mortar tube like so!"

A-THUNK! KA-THUNK! KA-THUNK! KA-THUNK! KA-THUNK! KA-THUNK!

"And they're off and flying here at the Pit!" Quick Kick sounded like a racetrack announcer. "The mortar shells are packed with baking soda and the barrels filled to the brims with vinegar so we'll know whether or not they hit their targets."

"**Baking soda and vinegar**?" Short Fuse repeated in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you follow the written instructions I gave you?" Quick Kick asked.

"Yeah, but I had trouble making out your handwriting," Short Fuse admitted. "It looked like you wrote to fill the shells with potassium iodide and the barrels with soap, food coloring and hydrogen peroxide."

**"What?!"** Quick Kick yelped.

"Uh oh," Lady Jaye gulped. "This isn't going be good."

"Why? What's so bad about that stuff?" Flint frowned in confusion.

"You ever hear of elephant toothpaste?" Sci-Fi asked.

FA-WHOOOOOOOOOMMM!

"I have **now,**" Roadblock blinked as a mushroom cloud of colored foam erupted in the distance. "There's only one word for this and that is…"

"YEEEOOOWWW!" Short Fuse's and Quick Kick's screams of pain rang over the radios. "AAAHHHHHH! THAT'S HOT! OW! OW! OW! THE FOAM BURNS! IT **BURNS**! AAAIIIEEEEEEEEE!"

"Well, so much for completing a full-scale inventory of the Pit," Duke moaned as a steaming mountain of foam began to rise above the skyline. "I wonder how much it would cost to build another one?"

"Moo…" The cow poked its muzzle at Duke.

"Get out of my face before I break out the Hamburger Helper!" Duke shouted.

"I'm not cleaning **that** up," Bazooka wrinkled his nose.

"SHORT FUSE! QUICK KICK!" General Hawk's voice was heard. "WHAT THE BLAZES DID YOU TWO IDIOTS DO THIS TIME?"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!" Quick Kick and Short Fuse were screaming.

"I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YOU MORONS WERE BEHIND THIS!" Hawk screamed. "I AM GOING TO…"

That was when the transmission cut out. "The radio's dead," Dial Tone realized.

"God willing that won't be the **only thing**," Low Light remarked.

"Something tells me us wrecking the convoy is the least of General Hawk's worries," Flint groaned. "And ours."

"Yeah we saved the aspirin and the booze," Shipwreck said as everyone finally stumbled out of their wrecked vehicles.

"Technically Bessie up there wrecked the convoy," Alpine pointed out.

"You can't put a cow in front of a firing squad," Bazooka remarked.

"Says who?" Duke glared at the cow.

"Guess there's no hurry to bring these supplies back to the base now," Sci Fi sighed.

"Assuming there's a base left," Lady Jaye groaned.

Shipwreck grinned. "Let's drink up all the booze so it doesn't go to waste!"

"Save me a bottle," Duke moaned. "Make it two!"

"Now can we go get McDonald's?" Bazooka asked.

"Why not?" Duke moaned.

"Moooo!"

"I am so in the mood for a cheeseburger," Duke glared at the cow.

The cow sniffed at Duke and then started to amble off the road. "OH, **NOW** YOU DECIDE TO GET OFF THE ROAD?" Duke shouted. "Yeah keep walking!"

"Mooo!"

"Don't you back talk me you Longhorn's entrée!" Duke screamed. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M YELLING AT YOU!"

"And to think," Lady Jaye sighed. "I traded with Scarlett for **this** assignment!"

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"Then again…" Lady Jaye blinked as another mushroom cloud of foam was seen on the horizon.

"STEAK! IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER!" Duke screamed at the cow. "MY DINNER! YOU HEARD ME! I'M GONNA HAVE A BIG THICK STEAK WITH A GLASS OF MILK! HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES?"

"I'd better break out the tranquilizers," Lifeline sighed as he went to get them.

"I spy with my little eye…" Bazooka began.

"If your answer is cow so help me…" Alpine growled at him.

"When's the next convoy run?" Low Light groaned.

Beach Head looked skyward. "Spaceship come back. Beam me up! Take me away from these lunatics!"

"Now I wish that spaceship was real," Flint moaned. "We could all go!"


End file.
